


Carcharhinus leucas

by feathershollyandgolly



Series: SecretlyMagneto's Cherikweek 2020 [5]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Isolation, M/M, Nature, Sharks, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24605599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathershollyandgolly/pseuds/feathershollyandgolly
Summary: Charles inhales sharply.Rising, coming closer, is a dark fin cutting through the water. It’s unusual this far inland, but the lake connects to a river that flows all the way to the Atlantic. It isn’t impossible.A bull shark is circling his boat.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: SecretlyMagneto's Cherikweek 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769218
Comments: 17
Kudos: 40
Collections: Cherik Week 2020





	Carcharhinus leucas

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: I WROTE MORE !!!!
> 
> Apologies for how short this one is! I know usually Charles would be with a larger team, and I'm sure there are inaccuracies ;-; but yes!!! I finished it !!
> 
> For Cherikweek day 5: Horror/Transformation

The rowboat creaks with each pull of the oars.

In the foggy morning, the lake is almost glass-like against a milky sky. Charles approaches the center, rowing gently to not disturb the fish. He waits until the distant spiny branches of the surrounding woods vanish into the mist.

He pulls out his fishing net and prepares.

New England has an interesting population of bass that come out during early spring. Despite the chill, the mornings are cooler and more predictable than midday. Charles refuses to experience daily sunburns after last year.

He makes sure to remember the tags, to track the current number and their movements from lake to the river a few miles east that leads to the sea.

The second the net is cast, it sinks into the inky darkness of the water.

Charles waits.

-

The sun still hasn’t risen after half an hour.

There’s something calming about drawing the net. Water drips from the edges, falling back to the lake. The bass writhe.

Charles lugs the mass up to pour them into the prepared water container onboard. Four. A substantial catch, considering their size. He reaches to pull out one of the tagged fish and—

His extended hand freezes when he sees something in the distance. Rippling. Charles inhales sharply.

Rising, coming closer, is a dark fin cutting through the water. It’s unusual this far inland, but the lake connects to a river that flows all the way to the Atlantic. It isn’t impossible.

A bull shark is circling his boat.

The shark brushes up against the hull, jostling water over the sides. A headbutt. Right before an attack.

Charles clings to the oars. He waits with bated breath.

Another brush.

He knows it is under the boat. He knows it is preparing to force him underwater. It is impossible to see land through the heavy fog. The water, inky and reflecting nothing, wavers.

Through the clouds overhead, the rising sun bleeds.

And a hand reaches out of the water and grasps the edge of the boat. A hand that leads to an arm that clings to the boat and pulls up the rest of a body. The body of a man, soaking wet, and staring back at Charles looking just as confused.

The man, who winces as though he’s in a tremendous amount of pain, manages to rasp, “Can you give me a ride back to shore?”

-

Charles is speechless. He sputters a few incoherent words, dazed with relief that he isn’t dead yet and terrified because now he has new things to worry about.

“You should be careful,” Charles says weakly, remaining stock still. “There’s a shark.”

“I must have scared it away.” The man sits with an unceremonious thud, rocking the boat. He smiles grimly and _oh he is completely naked._

Charles doesn’t want to leave the man stranded, but he also doesn’t know anyone in their right mind who would skinny-dip in March. He scoots backward, giving the man more room.

“Well—hm—we might as well,” says Charles, reaching for the oars.

“I can row, if you’re tired.”

“I’d rather you not.”

The man almost looks offended, but simply shrugs and shifts his gaze to the shimmering surface of the lake. 

-

Charles guides the boat northward. As the sun rises overhead, the surrounding fog reveals just enough of the shoreline for Charles to navigate. He listens for the awakening sounds of birds, spotting flashes of color on the treeline.

All of this is to avoid looking at the very naked man in front of him.

“What’s your name?” Asks the man, cutting through the silence. “I might as well know who’s helping me.” 

“Dr. Charles Xavier,” says Charles. Before he can stop himself, the ‘doctorates-aren’t-always-medical’ pet-peeve kicks in. “Graduated from Oxford with a Ph.D. in genetics, but I minored in ecology as well, so I wanted to do a little research project.”

“I’m Erik. Not an ecologist,” says the man, who, despite his intimidating demeanor looks sheepish. “Just an independent craftsman. Mostly making boats nowadays.”

“So you’re from around here?” Charles asks. (He also wants to ask why a man who makes boats doesn’t use one, but he keeps his mouth shut.)

“Sure,” Erik says, dismissing the question. “Here and there.”

Which is not helpful in the least.

“I’m from New York,” says Charles. “State.”

The awkward silence that follows reminds Charles that he should be more uncomfortable than he is. And definitely not weirdly attracted to this complete stranger. He shifts in his seat.

Because the world is cruel, Erik shifts too. Which. Well. Leaves little to the imagination.

“What?” Erik asks, catching Charles staring.

“Nothing.”

Right then, Charles’ brain decides to remind him that there are bass still sitting in the container. And that they should probably go back into the water.

He turns around, grateful for the distraction.

-

It’s only a matter of time before they start talking again.

Erik is engaging, despite his blunt disposition. Apparently he and Charles have more in common than they first thought. (And Charles ends up challenging Erik to a future chess game.)

After half an hour of rowing, Charles gives in to Erik’s offer and hands him the oars.

There is something about the way Erik moves that is familiar. A sort of brute force coupled with the grace of a lithe body (that Charles is definitely not looking at). It’s a little ironic that the man resembles the very shark lurking in the water.

-

“That shark you mentioned...” Erik starts, staring pensively at the approaching shore. 

“We’re probably out of its territory now. The water is too shallow,” Charles assures. “Most sharks aren’t aggressive, but bull sharks tend to be.”

Erik shakes his head. “No, it’s not that.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t really know how I ended up in the lake,” Erik murmurs. “I went to sleep last night and just...surfaced. Here.”

”You don’t remember?”

Erik frowns. “I promise you I don’t go swimming in the nude and sneak up on unsuspecting fishermen.”

“Kinky,” says Charles. He notices Erik’s expression and clears his throat. “Sorry. Has this ever happened before?” 

“No. I’m pretty sure most people don’t wake up swimming naked.”

“Sleepwalking?”

“Charles, what I’m wondering is how I’m not dead.”

Charles suddenly recalls the headbutt. An assured attack that never came. The fact that Erik would have been torn apart had he really been swimming nearby. Something that large doesn’t just vanish.

“You think...” Charles whispers.

Erik does nothing but nod faintly. The boat bumps against dry land, but neither of them notice. They’re too busy sitting in stunned silence, gazing at each other wide-eyed. 

“Oh,” says Charles, because someone might as well say it. “Okay.”

In spite of everything science tells him, he disembarks and holds a hand out to help Erik follow.

“I think I turned into a shark last night,” Erik mutters. “And all you have to say is okay?”

“Don’t be like that,” Charles replies. “I brought towels with me. You need to dry off...and get some clothes.”

“Okay,” Erik says again, somewhat disgruntled.

“Erik,” replies Charles. “You’re going to need my help.”

Erik sighs and takes his hand.

Charles is absolutely certain he’s either made the best decision in his life or triggered the catalyst for something terrible. 

**Author's Note:**

> Erik is a wereshark and after this he and Charles become friends (*cough* lovers *cough*)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!


End file.
